Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Duck confit with a side serving of plot development

This evening I had the enjoyable excuse to take out my best friend for an evening of fine food and “child free” conversation in celebration of said friend’s birthday. I’d state her age, but some milestones are best left unremarked, especially ones that end in a zero. 


At her request we went to a local French restaurant, and had what was without a doubt the best “frites” I have ever experienced.  Hand cut, carefully seasoned and doused with just the right touch of truffle oil, these were golden fried morsels of bliss. As we enjoyed the cozy surroundings and candle lit ambiance, our conversation somehow turned to the book we have been working on together. It didn’t strike me as a conversation fraught with danger until the waiter appeared with our Duck Confit, (yes, we ordered the same thing, we share a love of duck meat…what can I say?)  

As he delivered our crispy fowl served on a bed of freshly made carbonara, I realized that we were debating the finer points of sex, politics and interplay between the characters in our story. Over the course of the evening I have no doubt our poor waiter got quite an earful, and I cannot imagine what he thought of the two laughing women indulging in an evening of caloric celebration while debating if blades should be poisoned and how much easier it was to deflower a virgin who’d be told to relax and enjoy herself. The hazards of getting caught up in the lives of one’s characters are not to be taken lightly! 

By the time we were served our deserts we had worked our way round to the pithy commentary of secondary characters be in attendance at various events and who would be married/single/missing from the tale in order to keep the continuity of our storyline as a whole. Between spoonfuls of chocolate pate (swimming in a pool of salted caramel and topped with toasted, handmade marshmallow I might add) I worked through the various stories only to realize we had a timing issue, which was resolved as my friend spooned her way through a very nice Crème brûlée.

All in all I think that it was the most enjoyable, decadent and certainly delicious way to work through a plot I have ever experienced.  The next time I suffer from writer’s block I am going skip the headaches, irritability and worry and skip straight to the liberal application of well made food and good company to see if that sets things to rights. If not, at least it will have been time well spent.

I just hope that waiter has terrible hearing.

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